Our Scars (Make Us Who We Are)
by Luna the Zekrom
Summary: "They're lying together on the couch in the lab in companionable silence, dozing in the summer heat, when it finally occurs to Kurisu that there's something important she's never asked Okabe."


Kurisu never knows exactly how to feel about her memories from other worldlines. She tries to remember the good things about the summer she met Okabe—their friendship, the all-nighters they pulled at the lab, the thrill of inventing something, their first kiss—without thinking about the waking nightmares interspersed throughout them all.

She mostly succeeds. And it gets easier every day. All things considered, it's easy to focus only on the times she's been happy when she's happy now.

But sometimes darker things come back to her at unusual moments.

They're lying together on the couch in the lab in companionable silence, dozing in the summer heat, when it finally occurs to Kurisu that there's something important she's never asked Okabe. She lifts her head off his chest with a frown.

"What is it, assistant mine?" he asks, sleepily.

"The wound my father gave you when he tried to kill me…" she says. She no longer winces at the sound of such ugly words. "What happened to it?"

"It healed," Okabe answers, puzzled. He doesn't understand what she's asking. "It kept me in the hospital for a month, though. That's why you couldn't find me, remember?"

She tries not to look too impatient. "I know it healed! But did it leave a scar?"

He blinks away his sleepiness, looking up at her with a mix of worry and curiosity in his yellow eyes. Wondering why she's bringing this up now. "Yeah. There was no way a wound like that wouldn't scar. It was pretty deep."

Kurisu feels a pang of guilt. "Can I see it?"

"What? Why?" He looks strikingly as if he's been called out for daydreaming in the middle of class. Alarmed, and a little confused. It's kind of cute.

"Because I feel responsible," she says honestly. "You got it for my sake. I feel like I should know how bad it is. I know it's not rational, but…"

"It's not your fault," he says, touching her cheek. "And I'd do it all over again, if I had to. We're talking about your life versus a scar. They're not comparable."

"I know." Her face is flushing. "But I still want to see."

He doesn't argue, so she reaches for the bottom of his shirt. He shies away.

"What now?" She narrows her eyes at him. "Are you seriously self-conscious?"

Okabe's face is pink. He mumbles something that sounds like, "I don't have abs."

"What? I never expected you to have abs," she responds, impatiently. "It's not like you exercise or anything. I don't care. I just want to see the scar."

This time, he doesn't protest as she lifts up the bottom of his shirt.

The scar is a line stretching from the bottom of his chest to his bellybutton. Part of it is straight and smooth, but it twists strangely at the top and bottom. It's white, much paler than the rest of Okabe's skin. Kurisu gently runs her finger along the length of the scar, inspecting its odd texture with scientific curiosity.

She concludes that this is probably as much as it will ever heal. But it doesn't look too bad, actually. It's not angry and red like she half-expected it to be.

Okabe has gone strangely tense at her touch.

She glances up at his face, concerned. "Does it still hurt?"

"No," he answers, to her relief. He relaxes. "But it tickles when you touch it."

"Oh." She realizes that she never asked if she could touch the scar. Okabe hasn't objected to it, but she worries that he would never push her away even if she was making him uncomfortable. She almost never knows what's going on in his head. "Sorry."

"Are you satisfied now?" he asks, with a little smile.

"Yes," she says, pulling his shirt back down over his stomach and unceremoniously flopping down on top of him again. She smiles, unseen to him because her face is buried in his chest. "… I can't believe you're self-conscious about your abs."

"Nonsense. A mad scientist is self-conscious about nothing."

"I guess that explains your ridiculous hair."

He makes a surprised sound that's almost a laugh, but catches himself. His tone is remarkably even as he says, "I know you love my hair, Christina."

She scoffs at that on principle, but he isn't wrong. She's ruffled his already messy hair more times than she can count. She's not sure why. Maybe it's just because she can, although that's an unusual impulse for a responsible scientist like herself to act on.

"Christina?"

She briefly debates refusing to respond to that nickname, but it doesn't bother her much anymore—not that she'd ever admit that. She knows Okabe means it affectionately. Somehow, almost all of his old insults have become terms of endearment. "…Yes?"

"I love you."

Her urge to be prickly melts away. "I love you, too."

She closes her eyes, feeling perfectly peaceful and lazy and content to just stay here. It isn't long before drowsiness is tugging at her mind again.

Okabe's fingers always curl around Kurisu's wrist when he falls asleep next to her, subconsciously seeking the reassurance of her pulse. Now she finds her other hand reaching under his shirt, coming to rest over the scar on his stomach (she's careful not to tickle him this time).

It's proof of how hard he fought for this worldline. Proof of how much he loves her.

It's interesting, Kurisu thinks, that there are so many things she loves just because she associates them with him. She always keeps a couple of Dr. Peppers in her fridge at home; noticing them will make her smile even if she's had a long day. She's developed a tolerance—even affection!—for Okabe's chuunibyou nonsense. And this scar, a technical imperfection, is something she loves because it is a sign that she is loved.

Maybe that's why she doesn't focus on the bad things in her memories. Before that summer, the three weeks they spent hopping worldlines, she'd never had any close friends. Her mother was the only person she had been certain loved her.

But there's a difference between knowing she's loved and feeling it, and Kurisu had spent so much time failing to earn her father's affection that she stopped feeling the love from the one parent who had never stopped giving it. It was like her heart had developed scars of its own, protecting her from pain but also shutting out love.

During that time, she forgot that love wasn't meant to be earned. It was supposed to be given—given freely the way Okabe and his friends all gave it, welcoming her into their lives with open arms and friendly smiles.

She realizes now that she doesn't need to decide exactly how she feels about her memories from other worldlines. Because no matter what history says happened on this one, she knows that her experiences are real. The good things are real. The bad things are real. And they all make her who she is now.

Regardless of what happened in the past, she wouldn't want to be anyone other than who she is right now. This Kurisu, with this Okabe.

For now, that's all that matters.

* * *

**AN: This was my first time writing for Steins;Gate, so I hope I was able to do the characters justice! I didn't pick an exact time for when this story takes place, but it's quite a while after the game/anime, so I figured it was okay for them to be a little more serious with each other. **

**Most of my experience with the series comes from playing Steins;Gate Elite (not sure how that compares to the anime). I've also watched the sequel movie, but I haven't played any of the other games yet, so please don't include any references to them in the review section (I honestly don't know if that would happen, but I want to be extra careful about avoiding spoilers since I'm so late to the fandom. Better safe than sorry!). **

**Anyway, t****hanks for reading this little story, and please take the time to review if you enjoyed it! I really appreciate any kind of feedback, including constructive criticism.**


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